


Archangels Shouldn't be Baristas

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Coffee Shops & Cafés, But there's still monsters and shit, Gabriel is an asshole, M/M, On Hiatus, Sam needs a Break, oh and at some point theres porn, original characters used as plot devices, so not really an au
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-11-08
Updated: 2017-06-12
Packaged: 2018-08-29 18:54:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 11,875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8501416
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: It's not Gabriel's fault that he pulled an angel blade on an old lady. He woke up on a park bench with almost no grace, no idea where he was, and pretty sure that he'd been dead for a while. What was he supposed to do? Probably not that. So the plan is, get the hell out of dodge, or in this case, Palo Alto, He gets a job at a coffee shop. By the time Gabriel almost has enough to rent a crappy car, the Winchester boys show up. It goes downhill from there. Really fast.8/5/17: this work is on hiatus due to lack of inspiration





	1. Chapter 1

When Gabriel woke up, he was justifiably panicked. The last thing he remembered was being stabbed by brother dearest Lucifer. So waking up on a bench in the middle of a surprisingly quiet and empty park by a sweet old lady, well, who could blame him for reacting accordingly? Apparently the poor woman who suddenly had an angel blade against her throat and was shocked into silence.

"Oh shi-" He got out before she started screaming, loud and in Italian. He put his blade away and snapped, thinking very pointedly on Bora Bora. Nothing. Not even a few feet. He looked at the woman. "Sorry Ma'am." He offered in apology.  
She wasted no time in grabbing her purse and hightailing it.

He grumbled at the realization that he was without his grace, and sat back down on the park bench. He had his grace, just not enough of it to do anything. He probably could heal a scraped knee or something. Well, time to figure out where he was the old fashioned, lame, human way. Gabriel brushed off his pants and straightened his jacket, determined.

Twenty minutes, an old newspaper and one very confused Korean man later, Gabriel figured out he was in Palo Alto, California and it was about three forty. Very much so human too, as his heavily depleted grace indicated. He checked his pockets for any type of currency, and came up with six, severely wrinkled  dollars, twenty seven cents, and a funsize twix. That was it. All he had to his name. Never mind, now it was only six dollars and twenty seven cents. Because, if you gotta be broke, be broke and happy. He unwrapped the twix bar, throwing away the wrapper.

Gabriel wandered around the park for a while before his stomach started to growl. He sighed and using a tourist guide he had found (correction: _stolen_ ) went downtown.

Honestly, he had no idea where he was going to eat, seeing as he would barely be able to afford a bus pass. He figured his best bet would be the Burger King down the street by the sweeping bypass. Gabriel walked down the block quickly, ignoring the few little mom and pop shops along the sidewalk. He had gotten a few feet before his brain caught up to his nose, and the fucking _delicious_ smell all around him. Gabriel stopped abruptly, much to the chagrin of the man who was walking the other way. Dressed in an expertly tailored suit and carrying  a tray of overpriced Starbucks coffee and a bag of pastries, the only possible explanation was that the guy was a secretary.

"Sorry pal." He offered with a cocky grin. The man huffed in annoyance and continued on his way. Gabriel shrugged, and turned to the coffeeshop that had caught his attention.

The sign that hung above the door was wood and hand painted, obviously lovingly crafted. It read _Impresso Espresso_ in a pale blue curlicue script with coffee beans scattered through the o's and e's. He was already intrigued by the smell of coffee and the nonexistent line.  
Not to mention the glass case full of muffins and pastries.

Gabriel opened the door, barely hearing the tinkling bell, and walked up to the counter.

"Hi. Welcome to Impresso Espresso. Can I get you anything to drink?" A bored, and obviously tired college student asked, her blonde and green hair loosely pulled back into a messy ponytail. Her name tag read 'Mandy' and her expression showed that she'd rather be anywhere than here.

Gabriel scanned the menu above her head. It was your average coffeeshop selection. Teas, lattes, mochas, whatever the hell their frappacino equivalent was. If he was being honest, the strategy he was going with was looking at the nutritional information  and picking the one with the most sugar. "... What's the marshmallow cupcake coffee?"

Mandy snorted. "Other than diabetes in a cup? Pretty much a coffee milkshake covered in sprinkles."

"How much?"

She turned to the register and rang up the drink. "5.94." She told him as the total showed up in pixilated green on the till.

The archangel dug in his jacket pocket for the crumpled up cash, handing her his six dollars. She wrinkled her nose a little at the state of his money, but took it anyway.

"Do you want a receipt?" She asked, handing him his seven cent change.

"I'm good." He took the change and put it in his pocket. _37 cents left. This better be the best coffee ever._

"Suit yourself. What's your name?" She picked up a plain white cup and took the cap off a sharpie, posed to write.

"Gabriel." He said while admiring the cake pops sitting on display. They looked really _really_ delicious. Like, almost melt in your mouth delicious. He was about to ask for one when he saw the asking price. Three dollars? For a piece of cake that would be gone in seconds? No thank you.

Mandy stepped over to machines and set to work, while he wandered over to a booth by one of the big windows, beginning to look around the shop. It was a cute little place, full of old newspaper clippings and framed photos of celebrities. Even the occasional record cover graced the wall. All the classics were there from what he could see. The Beatles, Simon Garfunkel, even good old fashioned Lionel Richie. Not to mention all the relaxing pastels and earth tones that somehow went together seamlessly. It was actually a pretty calm environment and he was surprised there weren't more people around.

It was only a few minutes before the barista called his name. "Gabriel?" He grinned and walked over to get his coffee, grabbing one of the straws. He unwrapped it and found it was a translucent pink with little stars printed on it. Unusual as it was, it seemed to fit the place. Shrugging, he started drinking.

First and foremost, it was totally worth all his money, and secondly, _holy shit_. If he didn't know better, Gabriel would have said that the answer to life was inside the cup. But what was in the cup was absolutely amazing. So calling the noise he made 'pornagraphic' was probably not that far off.

Especially if Mandy's shocked expression was anything to go by. He cocked an eyebrow in a _what can you do?_ gesture and walked back over to the booth he'd been sitting in, grabbing one of the day old newspapers from the basket by the counter with the laminated 'Free' sign hanging off it.

He unfolded it and started browsing through it, his eyes catching on one of the side columns. **Murder on Stanford Campus?** Now that was a grabber of a headline. He started reading.

_September 28, 2016, Pediatrics student Marilyn Goodwin was found dead in her dorm. Foul play is suspected, due to the mutilation of the body, yet no evidence can be found to point to any suspects or any guilty persons. The body, according to police chief Fred Shelby, was ' ... severely damaged, with multiple puncture wounds in surprisingly equal increments...' Yet there is no weapon identified as of yet. Marilyn was described as a_ **(see Goodwin on A3 for more)**

Well, that was something weird, but you know, it's college. All sorts of stupid, dangerous, and just plain terrible things go on in college. Like parties, psych 101, and allowing frat boys on campus. Murder, even such a strange murder wasn't unusual.

He finished his drink, taking the newspaper and left. The mild temperature in the afternoon had given way to a cooler evening, the five o'clock rush hour just beginning to start.

Gabriel made his way back to the park he had woke up in. The trees started to look darker against the blue sky that was quickly turning orange, mixing to form a barely there shade of green. He spread out on a bench and pillowed his head on his elbows. He'd come up with some way to get the hell out of dodge in the morning.

\----------------------------------------

Okay. So he didn't figure out how to leave the first day, or even the fifth. But for a guy who'd been pretty much all powerful his entire existence, he was doing pretty well for himself. He'd found a cardboard box and a pen. _Will yell at strangers in multiple languages for money._ On the backside he had written _Will tell you what actually happened at any historical event._ Both actually made him enough cash to feed himself at least once a day.

"Tell me a story about the moon." Some little girl asked, dropping in a nickel and sitting next to him. She was missing her front teeth and had two little pigtails on either side of her head. She tucked her feet under her pink skirt.

"Where's your mom kiddo?" He asked, looking around.

She shrugged and pointed down the block. "She works there." He had no idea where she was pointing, but figured no harm could come from telling the kid a story.

"Well. Do you believe in God?" He asked.

"Yeah. I go to church every Sunday." She nodded enthusiastically. "It's boring though." She wrinkled her nose as an afterthought.

He chuckled, the kid was cute. "Do you know about the archangels?"

"The ones with the curly hair and pretty dresses?"

He grimaced. Gabriel was so glad that he'd found a new, awesome (and handsome, damnit) vessel. "Yeah. Those were the guys. So- uh, what's your name again kid?"

"Natalie. I'm six and I'm a first grader. My favorite color's purple and-"

"-Got it kid." He said, cutting her off. "So the moon huh?"

She nodded excitedly. "Yeah. How was it made?"

Gabriel leaned back. "Well, it started like this..."

He was almost through the part where the other planet crashed into the surface of the earth, the surface rock forming the moon. That's when somebody came running over, picking up Natalie. He looked up in surprise, and it took a few seconds to figure out who she was. "Mandy?" Oh. Right. This was the street with the coffee shop.

"... You." She said tentatively, eying him suspiciously. "What are you doing with my daughter?"

Natalie squirmed. "He was telling me a story!"

"Kid's right. She's a paying customer. An entire nickel." Gabriel nodded sagely, pointing to the chipped coffee mug he was using.

"Why are you on the streets?"

"I'm broke." He shrugged. "Can't exactly stay at the Hilton or anything."

The corners of Mandy's mouth twitched upwards. "Can you bake?"

He thought about it. "Not anything fancy, but I can, yeah." He'd been able to make a pretty good soufflé before, and while he preferred eating the food, making it was something he'd do when he had nothing better to do.

"Well maybe you might want to come down to the shop tomorrow. We're hiring." Mandy said. "You can finish telling Natalie your story." The kid chose that moment to shoot him some incredibly compelling puppy dog eyes, rivaled only by one certain moose.

"Yeah. Sure." Gabriel nodded. Money was important and he was honestly getting sick of having to sleep on benches. He always got really cold.

Mandy smiled and gently took her daughters hand, leading her off. "Well, maybe I'll see you then."

"Bye Mr. Hobo!" Natalie called, grinning and waving enthusiastically.

He let out a startled laugh. If there was a chance he could get a job, he could get out of this ridiculously expensive town. Maybe that way he could find someone who knew how to find hidden grace.

No matter what, it'd be worth a shot, right?  
\-----  
So. The job interview went well enough. Now his responsibilities include serving pumpkin spice lattes to teenagers who spend more time studying and panicking than sleeping. Not that he minds really, the shop is surprisingly homey when it's full of life.

But after a series of incredibly complicated drink orders, by increasingly annoying people, he started to understand just how horrible the customer service industry was.

"Gabriel! Your muffins or whatever are on fire!"

He did an awkward jog to the kitchen. He'd totally forgotten about his muffins. Gabriel was determined to save them from their crispy blackened fate. Because you know what? When he tried, he could cook pretty well. He wasn't Gordon Ramsey or anything, but he was competent. (Something that probably was a result of millennias of practice.) He pulled them out and tried to salvage them, quickly realizing the best way to make them more likely to sell was to make a quick batch of  cream cheese frosting and call them cupcake alternatives.

Two hours later, and Gabriel was taking a well deserved lunch break. He'd just had a herd of soccer moms order drinks that were more skinny and low fat than a celery stick. One man (angel? Did he still count as an angel?) could only take so many special requests without developing an eye tic. He grabbed one of the slightly stale pastries and sat down, picking up the newspaper, reading while he started working through his croissant.

**Fourth Murder on Campus**   
_In a series of alarming murders on the Stanford campus, comes the newest victim. Instead of the frightening trend of freshman students, a staff member has been attacked. Physics teacher of six years, Romero Travis was found dead in his office. The corpse was beginning to show signs of rigor mortis. The damage on the body seems to be the same as on the others, but neither a weapon or a suspect have been identified. Police are requesting..._ **(See Travis on C8)**

Well, a serial killer, that was something he hadn't seen in a while. He flipped through the rest of the paper disinterestedly. He read part of an article about lunchbox alternatives for elementary schoolers and about the Niners game. One that they'd lost miserably. No big surprise there. Personally, he was a Cowboys fan. Who didn't love some chaotic evil? He opened up to the back of the paper and read the comics, skipping straight to the Garfield, never mind the fact that they weren't even funny anymore.

The little bell on the door jangled when someone walked in. He didn't look up. Not until he heard who was talking.

"Sam. Why are we in a coffee shop? We have to figure out why the hell we're even in this overpriced hellhole."

Gabriel's head shot up. Oh shit. That voice belonged to no one other than Dean Mcfucking Winchester. What the hell were they doing here? He picked up his newspaper and hid his face behind it.

"Dean, Relax. When I was at Stanford, I came here all the time. The coffee is amazing."

That was Sam. Oh sweet fucking lord, they were actually both here. He tried to sink deeper into his booth and willed himself to disappear to no avail.

"... They better have pie." Dean grumbled. Gabriel could pretty much see the mostly resigned, but still pissy expression. He'd seen it a few times. (Correction, a lot of times.)

Sam laughed and patted his brother on the shoulder. "I'm sure they do."

Gabriel stayed completely still, as to not draw any attention to himself as the two brothers passed by him to go order. Then after they decided on coffee on the cheaper side and Dean got his pie, the two of them sat in the booth behind him. Just his luck, really.  
\--------  
"So. You know how there have been all these murders right?" Sam asked Dean, a note of excitement finding its way into his voice.

"... Yeah. Let me guess. Ghost?" Dean rolled his eyes, picking at a loose thread on the sleeve of his grey and green flannel. Only Sam would get exited at a prospective murder.

"Well that's the thing Dean. There's a campus legend about just this type of thing. Supposedly, back in the sixties there was a bowling alley in the Tresidder memorial union. The story was that there was a maintenance worker who got mangled by the pin machine. I mean, people used to run out of that wing of the building screaming all the time, and all the service dogs won't go near the place." He rattled off, sweeping his hair back behind his ears as he talked.

"Well, that'd be the place to start, right?" Dean leveled Sam with an incredibly unimpressed look. "Quick salt and burn, then we get the hell out of briefcase and electric car land, yeah?"

"It would be, wouldn't you think? But the problem is, I checked it out back when I was going there. No EMF anywhere in the building and no records anywhere about any deaths, or even bad injuries in the building. Hell, I checked the records of thirteen different cities around here to be sure."

"But you came up with nothing? Then why are we here?"

"Because I think that maybe I was wrong. It's been eleven years. Maybe I missed something."

"Tengu maybe?"

"Could be. Or it could be something else, I don't know."

Gabriel was so focused on their conversation that he hadn't even noticed that his break was up. Well, not until he heard the other barista call his name. Which was surprising, because Steve was usually stoned 24/7. A person could get secondhand high from being near him. Who would've guessed that he remembered Gabriel's name, much less how to read a clock.

"Yo. Gabe! It's your shift man. You gotta work the counter." Steve called.

He froze. But the Winchesters didn't even pause in their conversation. He got up quickly, and all but sprinted to the kitchen.

His coworker looked at him in confusion. "Dude. That's, like, not the counter."

"I can't go out there!" He whispered harshly to him.

"What? Yes you can. It's... Like, just right there." He pointed to it, head tilted in a way that reminded him of the Winchesters Angel Friend who Dean was _definitely_ fucking.

"Kid. I _can't._ " He said desperately. "Those two guys? Well I'm um, under witness protection." He pointed at the brothers who were talking animatedly, Sam using his hands more than necessary.

"... Like the law and order kind of thing?"

"Sure, yeah, whatever." He nodded. He'd go with a shitty TV show if it got the kid to take his shift

"Okay. Then just stay in the kitchen." Steve shrugged. "But my shifts over, so I'm clocking out."

"What? No!" Gabriel panicked. "Who's gonna run the counter?"

He cocked his head. "Uh... You?"

He cursed under his breath. With dad gone and all, blasphemy was just a word. "Just go, you obnoxious pothead."

Steve shrugged and hung his apron up. He grabbed his backpack and left through the side exit, oblivious to anything out of the ordinary.

Gabriel knew Mandy was coming in soon, and would kill him if he wasn't at the counter. So, he figured if he kept his back turned and cleaned all the machines, maybe the Winchesters would be gone before he actually had to show his face. Or maybe Mandy would come early.  
\-------------------------------  
Wishful fucking thinking was what that was. Because not only did Mandy not show up early, The Winchester brothers didn't leave. They did something worse than that. They came up to the counter. _And tried to talk to him_.

"Hey. Hey dude." Dean said loudly, causing Gabriel to freeze where he was and his blood turn to ice in his veins. He didn't even have enough juice to change his hair color, and adding a mustache wouldn't do anything. They'd most definitely seen his recording way back when. Ah, good times.

"Hello? Sir? Are you okay?" Sam asked gently, sounding concerned. Just like him in all his puppy dog nature.

Well. If you were gonna die, might as well die sarcastically and with the upper hand on someone. He spun around and grinned at the both of them. "Well, I dunno Sammich. I think I'm doing pretty good. But do you think I've put on weight? I feel like I've put on weight."

In less than twenty seconds, both brothers had their guns out and trained on him.

"Boys! Put the guns down!" Dean just shifted his grip on it, bracing it more steadily. "... Wow, I feel the love."

"You- you were dead." Sam said quietly, his expression unreadable as thousands of thoughts flitted through his head. Times like this would be great to have powers during.

He shrugged. "And I was. I guess Cassie isn't the only angel who can be resurrected."

Sam cocked his head, his hair falling in his face a bit. "What the hell are you doing in a coffee shop?"

"My job, duh." He gestured at his flour covered apron. "I work here. I would've thought that at least one of you would have processed that. Even if you do have pretty prehistoric Neanderthal brains."

Sam gave him a bitchface, working his jaw before huffing and glaring at him. Dean just tried not to snicker. Valiant effort on his part.

"Why do you need a job? You're an archangel. Are you murdering these people like back in-"

"Whoa there Samsquatch, slow down. This ain't the Spanish Inquisition. At least I don't think. Who knows, timelines are weird."

Sam took a deep breath, trying not to throttle the archangel. "Are you killing these people?"

"Nope! Complete coincidence." He said cheerfully. "Now, If you boys will kindly put the guns down, I have banana bread in the oven and Ive already burnt enough food today."

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> -finger guns- so im really bad at consistent posting and ive had this sitting around for a couple weeks so   
> please have mercy on me

Gabriel turned on his heel and walked into the kitchen, both Winchesters following him. "You shouldn't be in here. Health codes and all." Gabriel pointed out.

"... The fuck does that mean?" Dean huffed.

"Can't have you two filthy douche canoes in the kitchen. You might get dead person in the flour or something." He snickered, grabbing a hideous lime green paisley oven mitt from the stove top. He stuck his hand in it, ignoring the soggy spot in the middle of the glove. He'd thrown it in the sink when the finger tips caught fire the other day.  He opened the oven quickly, sticking a fork in the top of the loaf and pulling it out quickly. "Fuck yeah! I'm getting good at this."

Dean looked over his shoulder skeptically. "You didn't use enough baking soda. It's a little flat. Baking powder and baking soda work together, not as supplements."

Sam did a double take, looking from Gabriel to his brother. "Wait- what? Since when have you baked?"

"Aw, did Deano get all domestic and sappy for his angel?"

Dean spluttered, attempting to form words (and failing. _Miserably_ ) before glaring at Gabriel. "No! Fuck you!"

"... I think ol' Castiel would have a problem with that bucko, now... Your little bro on the other hand..."

Sam gave him one hell of a bitchface, and Gabriel immediately thought of Medusa. Maybe he should introduce them. Laughing at their twin looks of anger and disbelief, he grabbed the loaf and set it on a cookie tray for the metal pan to cool down. "Just joking, Sam I Am."

"Oh god. I will shoot you if you try and come up with increasingly lame nicknames for me." Sam groaned.

"Your angel, your problem." Dean said under his breath.

"So! What did I miss? It's pretty obvious that big bro didn't win. How'd you do it?"

Sam grabbed one of the stools scattered around the room (an art teacher had gotten new ones and these had only cost five dollars apiece. You're damn right he bought a few) and sat down on it while Dean leaned against the counter by Gabriel. "We trapped him in the cage. Kinda."

"Kinda? Sammo, that doesn't sound great."

"Well, Here's an overview of the last couple years." Dean sighed. "You died, Sam said yes, regained control of his vessel and dragged Lucifer and Mike into the pit." He looked at Gabriel's raised eyebrows and snorted. "Oh, it gets better. Cas brought Sam back soulless, Then, Raphael became even more of a dick, and he and Cas started fighting for control of heaven. Crowley got him to agree to help open purgatory, Cas became God 2.0 and then the leviathans escaped. We killed them and all that, but I got sent to purgatory with him and Sam got a dog."

"Wait- what? What do you mean a do-"

"Shut up, there's more." He cut Gabriel off. "Then, we got out, more shit went down, Abbadon, I got the mark of Cain, killed her, became a knight of hell, became undemoned or whatever, got rid of the mark, released your aunt The Darkness, met God, saved the world, and then we went to Florida."

"Whoa hold up there. You. You two met capital G God?"

"He's not all that he's chalked up to be." Sam grumbled. "He ate all my quinoa and then proceeded to watch porn on my laptop."

"Nobody cares about your quinoa Sam. He ate _all_ the Girl Scout cookies."

"Yep. Sounds like dear old dad." Gabriel sighed. "An asshole through and through."

"He wasn't _that_ bad."

"No Dean, he was. I'm still trying to clear my hard drive of viruses!"

"Now, this has been very educational, but can you two please go away?" He muttered. "I gotta work, my boss'l be showing up soon."

"Wait- Why do you have a job anyway?" Dean asked.

"Well dumbass, It pays for a bus pass so I can go on down to the least shitty homeless shelter in the area." He scoffed.

"Wait- Gabe, you're staying at a homeless shelter?"

"Yeah, dumbass. It beats park benches. And who said you could call me Gabe, Sasquatch?"

Sam made an offended noise at the nickname, while Dean cut off what was bound to be an _incredibly witty_ and _cohesive_ rebuttal. "Can't you just... Mojo up a credit card or something?"

He took a moment to consider it before shrugging. "At this point, probably. But that would drain a lot of what I have at the moment. It's kinda coming back in waves. I woke up on a park bench a few weeks ago, and haven't really recovered yet. So yeah. Homeless shelters or whatever."

"Aren't you a pagan god too? Don't you have powers on that side?" Sam asked.

Gabriel patted his shoulder. "It's all about balance, Green eggs and Sam. If I use too much trickster juice, I won't regain my grace and vice versa. Plus it'd send up a flare to anyone looking for me." He paused, tapping the banana bread to see if it was cool yet. "Not to mention, powers like that need blood sacrifice and shit. I think you two bozos would disapprove."

"You're damn right. Y'know... Seeing as your archangel mojo is lacking right now... I wonder if stabbing you with a stake might work now?" Dean mused. "Or would we have to stab you with an archangel blade still? Both?"

"How about, we don't find out? Doesn't that sound like a great idea! We can play 'let Gabriel live and maybe he'll help you out'!" He suggested, wiggling the loaf carefully out with a butter knife.

"Well... I mean, the case is a little... A little confusing." Sam muttered, looking up at the ceiling.

"Sammy, you can't be serious. This is _Gabriel_! Y'know, the asshole who killed me a couple hundred times?" His brother hissed. "C'mon, he's a complete dick!"

"And who is also standing right there Dean. He can hear you." Sam pointed out.

"We could always just call Cas..." Dean muttered.

"Dude, after Lucifer was  hitchhiking in his vessel? He's still recovering from that. And while I know it's not ideal... But we don't have any solid footing here either. So far, he's our best bet. A very obnoxious best bet, but nonetheless..."

"Fine. Whatever! We'll work with your boyfriend Samantha!"

"Jerk." Sam huffed at him.

"Ew gross, don't do that... Weird brotherly bonding thing in my kitchen. It's gross and there are children in the building." Gabriel cut in, stepping right between them. "Y'all are brothers for christsake. Leave room for Jesus."

Dean spluttered indignantly. "I- what- no!"

"Calm your tits Deano, I'm teasing you."

"Don't call me that, _Gabe_." He shot back.

"Yeesh. Touchy aren't you? Don't worry, you have very nice tits." He patted Deans chest. "Cassie sure thinks so."

Dean pulled a face that made Sam have to dig his fingernail into his palms to keep from laughing. He coughed into his fist to regain composure. "Well since we can't kill you, and you can't kill _us,_ could you maybe help us with this case?"

"What, the evil haunted ex bowling alley?"

Sam looked at Dean. "I thought you were against him helping!"

"Shut your facehole Samantha. You're right, he's useful." He muttered.

"If you two are done arguing, I'm here to help." Gabriel piped back in, cleaning under his nails boredly.

"What do you know?" Dean huffed at him.

"Well!" He clapped excitedly. "You guys were right about it not being a ghost, and it's not a Tengu either."

"Then what are we dealing with?"

"No idea!" He said cheerfully. "Sorry boys!"

Dean groaned while Sam just looked unimpressed.

"Fuck this, I'm going back to the motel and then I'm gonna find a bar." Dean muttered, stalking out. "Sammy, you can research. Let your little nerd brain have fun."

"Dean- oh never mind. Nice seeing you alive Gabriel. I'll come back tomorrow, let me know if you think of anything." Sam sighed, going after his brother.

"Will do Sam-a-lam!"

\-----

Gabriel woke up, took the bus to work, opened the shop, and grabbed a paper. He untied the rubber band and gaped at the headline, dropping the newspaper on the floor.

 ** _AMANDA MILLER: MURDERED_**  
  
He scrambled to pick it up, sitting on the floor because he didn't trust his legs.

_Amanda Millers body was found early this morning in Tresider Memorial Hall's parking lot. The same weapon seemed to be used as in the previous cases. We urge the public to come forward with any available information about the killings. Amanda is survived by her daughter and her mother. The memorial is being (A3)_

He put the paper down and leaned back on his hands. Gabriel could only think of one thing. He needed to do everything in his power to stop this, and soon.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow!! an update that isn't practically three months later??? its probably witchcraft  
> THANKS FOR THE KIND WORDS FOLKS!!!!

Amanda. Mandy. His boss was dead. Murdered. As much as he hated to admit, Gabriel had a problem with getting attached to people. Loki, well that side of him didn't have that problem really. Mainly because killing them was more fun.

He stood up shakily, and closed his eyes. He reached into the plane his wings were kept in, twisting and focusing, calling to his grace. He'd only done this once before, back in Greece when the empire was at its height and Hephaestus had stolen it, wanting to use it to forge weapons. He remembered how weak he had been last time he called for it, it broke his vessel and knocked trees over. Gabriel knew it was a bad idea to try and retrieve his grace inside a city, but he needed to kill this thing. And now.

With as much grace as he had regained already, he might be able to preserve the area but was a little wary to risk so many innocent lives. If he was being completely honest, he was more afraid about what the Winchesters would do to him than any damage he would inflict. He spread his wings and focused on the burning white color of Sam's soul. It was almost blinding, but convenient. He located the motel they were staying at, a shitty little bed and breakfast that had crumbling bricks. He snapped, flipping the open sign to closed and locking the doors. Gabriel gathered every ounce of power around him until the air in the shop was humming and with a flap went to the Winchesters.

\-----

Dean didn't even look up when he heard the rustling of wings, assuming it was just Cas. Then he heard the thump of a body hitting the ground and stood up quickly, the chair being knocked over in the process as he drew his gun. Wasn't really necessary as the angel in question was facedown on the floor groaning.

"Where the hell did you come from?" Dean demanded.

"Coffeeshop. Mandy- boss got killed by your monster- need grace- soon-" He groaned into the carpet.

"Jesus- why is Gabriel on the ground? Is he dead?" Sam asked.

"Well we can poke him with a stick. Or an angel blade." Dean nudged Gabriel with his foot to illustrate his point.

"Just... Take me to a hill- or a field. I'm going to try and summon my grace." He rolled over to where he was on his back, panting.

Sam frowned down at him, leaning over, his hair falling in his face. "Why haven't you already done that?"

"Pretty dangerous Samster. Last time I tried I broke the vessel. And a forest. And caused an earthquake." Gabriel scrubbed a hand over his face, sitting up carefully. "But then again I had less control back then."

"You sure about that? Is it safe?"

"Yep. Probably. Maybe. Where's the nearest field?"

"Well there's not really any secluded fields around here. I guess we could go up into the mountains and find some out of the way spot..."

"Great idea. Let's do that."

"Hang on a sec. Sam, we're hunting this thing right? And now there's a fresh body that we can check." Dean cut in. "C'mon dude, the angel can wait."

"Dean, last time I checked, you only need one person to check out a corpse." Sam rolled his eyes at his brother. "Take the Impala, and we'll get Cas to help us."

"We will?"

Sam stepped on Gabriel's foot to shut him up.

The archangel jumped and scowled at him, crossing his arms and staying quiet.

"Dean, go." He insisted. "I've got this. We'll get Cas and then help Gabe."

"Watch it Samoose. You're making it sound almost as if you _care_!" Gabriel laughed. It didn't help when the brothers both looked at him with an almost identical look of annoyance.

"Whatever Sammy. Don't let your guard down around him." Dean muttered, grabbing the keys to the impala and marching out the door.

\-----

Gabriel sat in one of the overstuffed, uncomfortable armchairs that were easily fifty years old and probably filled mostly with sawdust, and prayed. "I pray to the Angel Castiel, that he gets his ass here immediately to help his favorite brother out."

With a sudden rustling of feathers, Castiel was standing in the middle of the motel room, head cocked in confusion. "Gabriel? You're alive?"

"Well duh, how else could I be here? And no, You're not hallucinating again." He snorted, reaching over to the counter and opening one of the complimentary packs of peanuts. "So Cassie, wanna help me out?"

"Of course. How can I assist you?" Cas nodded.

"First! We need to go somewhere super remote so I can summon my grace-" He tore the packet open.

"But won't that alert the entire host to your presence?"

"-Probably yeah, but stop interrupting me. And secondly! Just get together with Deano already! It's _unbearable_ lil' bro! Theres so much UST!"

Sam choked and went bug eyed while Castiel just looked annoyed and stayed silent on the matter.

"Lame." Gabriel snorted. "C'mon, chop chop, I need to get my mojo back baby!" He dumped all the peanuts into mouth, grinning.

Cas sighed and grabbed his arm, bringing the both of them to the frozen tundra of Alaska. 

 

\-----

 

Gabe scanned where they were, and shivered a little. "Okay, this'll work. Now! You got a knife Sambo?"

Sam reached into the inside of his jacket and pulled out a blade that was about three inches long and made out of silver. "Yeah. Why?"

He plucked it from his fingers, reaching into his own coat and grabbing his angel blade. "Gotta link the vessel with my grace. A physical cut and a celestial cut. Then you should really cover your ears and eyes."

"What? Why?"

"Because Gabriel will be calling to all his grace, with his true voice and form. Your eyes and ears would not be able to take it." Castiel cut in. "In fact, I do not know why he endeavored to bring you here in the first place."

"To try and ground myself silly! That's why you're both here! Heaven and earth. Maybe this time around I won't almost destroy my vessel." He paused. "That was... Gross to clean up. Very splattery. Anyways. Hold this." Gabriel passed Sam a fairly heavy drawstring bag. "Don't open that."

Sam groaned. "Dude. Nobody asked." He bounced the bag in the palm of his hand, trying to guess what was in it.

Gabriel waved him off, scoffing. "Whatever. Let's get this show on the road, eh?"

"Wait- hold on a second, how come you didn't do this when Metatron took _your_ grace Cas?" Sam asked, turning to face the angel in question.

"It's my own ritual Sambarino! Mix of paganism and good ol' yelling in enochian. I mean, what you're holding is pretty gruesome on its own, but man, there were trial runs that were waaaaay messier. I'm talking goats. Haggis class goats."

Sam grimaced at him, tucking his hair back behind his ear again. "Okay, One, Gross. And two, why do _I_ have to hold the animal parts?"

"Because Cassie gets to hold feathers." He shrugged, setting said feathers into Castiel's outstretched palm. "In all honesty, you probably got the better end of the deal."

\-----

Sam had his ears covered and his eyes squeezed shut, but he could still hear the intense, high pitched ringing through his hands, and fuck, if it wasn't giving him a massive headache. Not to mention the bright light that he could see through his eyelids, it was like staring into the sun through a telescope it was so bright. The only difference was that he could almost make out shapes, but they were so weirdly shaped, his brain couldn't even really process them.

When the ringing finally died down and the glow faded, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Carefully opening his eyes one at a time and lowering his hands from where they were clutching at his ears, Sam saw an incredibly smug Gabriel standing in front of him, arms crossed.

"How ya doing Sammich? Not too much, was it?" He grinned, sticking out a hand to help Sam up from where he had been kneeling in the thin layer of snow.

"You're an ass." Sam took his hand, brushing his pants off.

"An all powerful ass! I'm all juiced up now. And bonus, I didn't explode this time." He laughed, pulling him up. "Plus, the bag o' bones survived." He waggled his eyebrows, gesturing to the bag by Sam's feet.

"And you accuse me of flirting." Cas said dryly.

Gabriel turned to face him, sticking his bottom lip out, pouting. "Rude. I'm just helping the poor weak human up."

"You have never done anything for anyone but yourself." Sam pointed out, kicking the foul smelling bones.

"How dare you! I _died_ for you assholes!" Gabriel gasped, before pausing dramatically. "Speaking of assholes I died for..."  
  
He grinned at the both of them before snapping.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leaving kudos feeds the authors seventy thousand au's


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did try to get this going on time, but alas, it was not to be; In the meantime, I've been working on a very aquatic story so look out for that

Suddenly, the three of them were standing in the middle of a harshly lit room, with tile floors and crisp white walls. The smell of formaldehyde and the lingering scent of death hung heavy in the air. Dean was already hunched over an examination table, holding a scalpel between his thumb and forefinger, absentmindedly tapping it.

"Deano! What've you discovered?" Gabriel called, sidling up next to him in almost complete silence.

Dean jumped and spun around to glare at him, brandishing the tiny blade as a weapon. "You-"

Gabriel ignored him in favor of looking at the corpse. "... Damn. That's brutal." He frowned.

Mandy's body had been completely mangled, the punctures easily three inches deep and going through bone in some cases. It almost looked like the weapon that was used was dull with how the skin was ripped and stretched.

"Any sulfur?" Sam asked his brother, putting a latex glove on and pushing on the side one of the wounds, looking at it.

"Nope. No ectoplasm either. I'm thinking vengeful spirit." Dean muttered, putting the scalpel back on a tray.

"But I've already looked into-"

"Sam. We need to do a little more research. Maybe it's not _the_ ghost, but maybe a ghost who's doing the same thing."

"While I hate to agree, freckles is right. We need to keep looking for a connection. I wanna find whatever did this, and kill it as slowly and painfully as possible." Gabriel said cheerfully.

Dean rolled his eyes and picked up a pair of tweezers, hunching back over the body. "Get me another q-tip Sam, this ones gonna be messy."

He dug out a chunk of vertebrae that had splintered off, the rough break an obvious sign of a fast and messy stab.

"This mean anything to you?" Dean asked, pointing at her necklace, a little piece of fraying blue handkerchief knotted onto the black yarn that was tied around her neck.

"No. I think it's just a necklace Deano." Gabriel frowned, looking down at it.

"A'ight." He shrugged, moving on to another wound.

\-----

Gabriel was completely and utterly bored out of his mind. The Winchesters were doing their research, pouring through death records and histories of the victims. Not to mention combing the local papers for weird occurrences in the past twenty years. Seeing as this was only a small blip on the big scale, he had no clue what was going on.

"This is so boringggggggg." He whined, flicking another crumpled up post-it note at Sam's head. He wished he just snap and fix all of this.

"You've got your grace back- go, I don't know, go do something _else_!" Dean huffed, looking up from his phone to glare at him.

"Jeez. You're no fun. Plus I'm hanging around you losers so the heavenly host doesn't find me. Those fancy doodles all over your ribs really do the trick."  
Gabriel felt Sam glaring at him before he saw him glaring at him. "Jeez. Touchy."

A few beats later, Sam looked up in confusion. "Wait. Holdup. How can _you_ find us then?"

"Well duh. I'm the trickster. Loki, God of mischief or whatever. On the pagan side of things, you're pretty much a massive beacon, and super easy to find. Pretty useful eh?" He grinned, kicking his legs before jumping down from where he'd been sitting on the table.

"... Well that's not reassuring." Dean muttered, flipping a page, and making notes in the margin.

"Anyway we can prevent that? From other pagan gods finding us, I mean." Sam asked.

Gabriel shrugged. "Yeah. I could whip up a spell." He paused. "Hell, they're pretty simple to put together."

"Great. Why don't you make those, while me and Dean actually try and get stuff done." He sighed, turning back to his laptop. "Then you can stop flicking paper at me."

"Aye aye captain." Gabriel mock saluted before disappearing.

\-----

The ritual really wasn't complicated. It just required Gabriel to recite some mumbo jumbo and it was over. But for fun he convinced the boys it was necessary to throw eggs and flour at them.

It was funny until Dean realized that he was bullshitting them. Then Gabriel got smacked upside the head by Sam, and an egg thrown at him by his traitor little brother Cas.

"You're all out to get me!" He wailed, sitting on the ground in defeat.

"You were the one throwing _food_ at us asshole." Dean grumbled.

"Well then you and the angel who threw an egg at me truly were destined for each other." He snarked at him, wiping the yolk off his cheek.

"Goddamnit." Sam groaned. "I'm going to go shower and then continue researching."

"Can I come?" Gabe leered at him.

"No!"

\-----

"Hey, check this out." Sam called over his shoulder to Dean, pointing at his laptop.

"What?" Dean clambered over the bed and sidestepped furniture to get to the table, sinking into one of the mismatched chairs tucked around it.

"Right here, I was going through all the victims right? Well, take a guess at what was connecting them all."

Dean rolled his eyes. "I don't know, an unhealthy obsession with the smurfs? Don't make me guess."

Sam leveled him a bitchface. "No, they were all on the same team a couple years back. They were going to a robotics meet in Minnesota and the bus crashed. Right outside of the Tressider building."

"And?"

"Only one causality." Sam turned the monitor towards him, a grainy picture of a blonde kid with freckles and acne scars. Not to mention the coke bottle glasses that dominated most of his face. "Robert Seils. Twenty two, and six weeks from graduation."

"Oh, damn. Poor kid." He whistled. "So what happened?"

"Well, kid was impaled on a broken metal bar and the professor didn't see him when he locked the hatchet behind them. Then the bus started to roll." Sam grimaced. "You get the picture."

The lightbulb clicked for Dean. "The stab wounds! They're not from the bowling alley, they're from the bus!"

"Exactly." Sam nodded.

"So while every amateur is looking in the building, we find the real ghost!"

"Bingo!" Gabriel yelled, appearing on top of the table, causing Dean to stifle what would have been (an incredibly manly) scream.

"Yeah. Problem is," Sam barely blinked at Gabe's sudden appearance." "He was cremated, and there's no memorial anything.

"... God damn it." Dean let his head hit the table.

Gabriel stepped off it and read over Sam's shoulder. "What about the bus? What happened to it?"

He clicked around. "Nothing."

"That'd be my first guess." Gabe shrugged.

"So, who else was on that nerd team?"

"Well... We have Valerie Carlebent and Christopher Legen. The other member, Franklin, died of unknown causes."

"So, vengeful spirit, huh?"

"Looks like it Dean. Why don't we all split up? You and Cas can go look for the bus, and Me and... Well Gabe I guess, can go interview the victims."

"Sounds like a plan." Dean nodded, turning to Gabriel and poking him in the chest with his finger. "Don't get any ideas wise-guy."

"No plan to." Gabe beamed. "I swear on my honor."

"You don't have any honor- oh never mind. I'll be back." He grabbed the laptop.

"Hey! Dean! I need that!" Sam yelled after his brother.

"Tough luck!"


	5. Chapter 5

"No. You can _not_ wear that." Sam insisted.

"Why not? It's a perfectly functional outfit." Gabriel complained, looking down at his pink pinstriped suit.

Sam scrubbed a hand over his face, pressing at the bridge of his nose. "No self respecting financial aid counselor would wear a tie with... Ugh, anatomically correct dicks all over it."

"But I'm not a financial aid counselor now am I?" He said triumphantly, puffing his chest out and tightening the knot on his tie. It was in fact, a magenta tie, with little dicks interspersed throughout it. He thought it was absolutely hilarious, Sam was just a party pooper.

"Okay- you can wear the suit- and that garish shirt-" It was rose pink. "But please. For the love of god, ditch the tie." Sam sighed, dropping his head in defeat.

"Nah." He grinned.

"Why did I decide to work with you again?" Sam scowled at him.

"Because, A, you need me." He counted on his fingers "And I'm all juiced up now thanks to you and Cassie, so I can help with this whole 'reasearch' thing. And B, I'm lovable and charismatic." Gabriel sent Sam a cocky smirk.

"Y'know what, lets compromise."

"I'm listening. Shoot."

"I'll accept that, if, and only if, you take off that hideous tie."

"Deal." Gabriel held out his hand.

Sam smiled a little at the small victory, and grasped his hand firmly, shaking it twice.

They let go, and Gabriel, well, if he didn't know better, he could've sworn that Sam hesitated a little. But that was impossible. Sam didn't care. Right?

"Alright. Now your end of the deal. I've accepted you as being 'charismatic' enough to warrant working with you. So, please. Get rid of the tie."

Gabe snapped, grinning. "Boom. No more tie."

Sam looked and groaned. Instead of the dick tie, Gabriel had put in its place a inky black tie, with a bright pink flamingo embroidered on it.

"You dirty cheat."

"Um, hello? Pagan _trickster_ god if you remember. You do remember, don't you Sammy?" He snorted, leaning against the countertop in the little kitchenette.

"Oh no. I remember. You put us through hell. And I can compare. I've been."

Gabe winced. "Yeah. Sorry about all of that. It was well meaning."

Sam got stony faced. "Killing my brother was well meaning?"

He paused, and scuffed the ground with his shoe, looking down. "Okay... Maybe I went about it wrong... And got carried away in my enjoyment..."

"You're impossible." Sam ran a hand through his hair in exasperation. "Just when I start to like you, you turn out to be just as big of an asshole as usual!"

"C'mon. I really am sorry though." Gabriel pleaded. "Can we forget this conversation?"

"I don't really think I can forgive you..."

"That's okay. I'll make it up to you, I swear." Gabriel didn't know what else he could do. Because, he even, y'know, died for the brothers. How can you have a bigger gesture of apology than _dying_ for someone? Humans, were petty little bastards. Well, so are angels, but, who's counting?

"Whatever." Sam sighed, sending another forlorn look at Gabriel tie. "Let's just go." He picked up the motel key and stepped outside onto the concrete slab that served as a porch for three of the units, cheap and scratchy welcome mats in front of the doors.

Gabriel followed after him, closing the door behind himself. Sam locked the door and put the key in his pocket, reaching into the other one and cursing.

"Shit! Dean took the car keys."

Gabriel grabbed Sam's arm. "Ladies and gentlemen, welcome aboard Archangel airlines. Please keep all organs and body parts where they belong as we take off."

"Oh god no-"

Gabe snapped.

\-----

Gabriel was holding Sam's hair back as he threw up in the bushes, patting his back awkwardly, trying to ignore the sound of the retching.

Sam winced and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand as he stood back up, shaking off Gabe's hand.

"Ugh. Do you think you could mojo up some gum for me? And... Mouthwash?"

"Got you covered." He held out a Dixie cup full of blue listerine, and a pack of spearmint gum.

Sam deftly snatched the cup from him, and gargled some of it, spit it out, swished more, and then gargled the remaining mouth wash. He blew into his cupped hand and shrugged, taking a strip of gum.

As he unwrapped it, Gabriel looked for the house they were going to. According to google maps, and some probably (totally) illegal digging on Sam's part, they discovered that  Valerie Carlebent lived on Gasquet flat road, in Northern California. She had recently been dumped, and was hired on as an assistant teacher at the local school.

"Aren't you glad I'm here?" Gabriel grinned.

"What?"

"The drive up here would normally be nine hours. We made it in six seconds."

"Well... I guess that could be considered a win." Sam frowned. "I mean, if we had driven, I probably wouldn't have thrown up."

"Bah, you'll feel fine in an hour." Gabe snorted, waving him off.

"Alright. Where does this woman live?"

"Erm... 2654."

Sam looked at the house they were standing in front of, the red door and dark gabled roof tucked behind a long lawn, with a tiny creek flowing across from the neighbors yard. 2649.

"We can walk." Sam nodded, heading down the street.

They finally got to the door of 2654, a little cottage done up with weathered birch boards painted a sunny yellow, the window shades painted a pastel green and the door had a mural painted across it.

They went and knocked on the door. Gabe was kind of mesmerized by the intricate details on it, spotting a grizzly bear tucked behind a massive redwood tree, so he jumped a little when the door opened.

A woman in her early twenties pushed her glasses up her nose, wiping her flour covered hands on her thighs. There was a bit of flour on her forehead as well, but Gabriel wasn't going to point it out. She paled at the sight of them.

"Oh no. Is it my papa?" She asked, horrified.

Sam offered a practiced, and placating smile. "No ma'am. We're actually here to ask some questions."

She narrowed her eyes at them. "You aren't trying to sell me anything, are you?"

Gabriel laughed. "Nope. We're actually here to do some follow up for your student loans."

She groaned and held the door open. "Alright guys, come in. Take a seat, you might as well be comfortable."

The both of them went in, and sat on lovingly crafted wood chairs with deep green cushions tied to the backs of the rings. The kitchen was tucked into the wall, the big window sending long and reaching beams of sunlight into the house and the floor. The walls were done with a soft sea foam green and decorated with paintings of various birds. The ceiling fan above them spun lazily, tassels waving a bit in the draft. 

"I'm Valerie. But you can call me Val." Val walked back to the kitchen counter and put what appeared to be pie dough in some seran wrap, and tucked into the fridge. "You boys want some iced tea?"

"Oh, no thank you." Sam declined.

"Sure." Gabriel smiled.

She picked up a clear pitcher. "Is sweet tea okay?"

"Sweeter the better."

Val smiled at Gabe, and pulled a mug out from the cupboards, a ceramic one that had a lopsided duck painted on the side. She poured him a glass and passed it over.

"You sure you don't want one Mr...?"

"Oh, how rude, My name is Sam, and my colleague is Gabriel. And I'm sure, but I appreciate the offer." He smiled placatingly.

She dropped into one of the chairs facing them, hands folding on the laminated white table cloth. "So. How's my debt plan doing? Am I off track?"

"Actually no." Gabriel started. "We're here because you're ahead of schedule, and we wanted to let you know that with two thousand more, you'll be paid off."

Val lit up like a firework against the night sky. "That's incredible!"

Sam's phone started ringing. "Scuse me, I've got to take this."

He slipped outside onto the porch. "Hello?"

"Sam?" Deans tinny voice drifted through the speakers.

"Yeah?"

"We burned the entire bus. But the problem is, the other guy? Christopher Legen?"

"What Dean?"

"He's dead."

Sam hissed into the phone. "What?"

"Maybe we didn't get it in time, but, you've got to watch out for that girl. We must've missed something." Dean huffed. "I'll call you back if me and Cas find anything else. Watch her."

"Dean-"

The line clicked. He pulled the phone from his ear and seriously considered hurling it into the pond that was in Valerie's front yard. He clicked the power button and stuck it in his pocket.

"Who was it?" Gabriel asked.

"It was the boss. Our rides car broke down. We're on our own for a few days."

Gabriel managed to look annoyed. "God. I hate Chuck. Couldn't he have sent us an uber? He's too serious about the sabbath."

Sam smiled a little at the joke. He turned to Val. "Ma'am, is there a motel nearby?"

She frowned. "Oh heavens, no, not really. There's an old abandoned one from Gasquet's heyday, but no. I have an extra room though. As long as you don't mind sharing it's yours."

Gabriel grinned. "Thank you. This way there won't be any confusion with the driver, eh Sam?"

"Yes, thank you so much." He smiled at her.

Valerie returned the smile. "We'll do you fellas have any spare clothes?"

"I've got an extra shirt." Sam mused. "It's tucked in the same bag all the financial information is in."

"I've got nothing." Gabriel shook his head.

"I think my ex left some of his clothes here." She looked Gabriel up and down. "You'll fit them."

"Oh! Thank you!"

Valerie turned to look at Sam. "As long as you don't mind wearing swim trunks, you both can change out of the suits. The weather is wonderful, so you could probably go swimming in the river."

"Hey." Gabe elbowed Sam in the ribs. "That sounds like fun!"

"Oh!" She clapped her hands excitedly. "I can play tour guide around the town for you two."

"That would be lovely actually." Sam smiled, elbowing Gabe harder.

"Give you folks something to do here. Now hold up a sec," She walked out of sight, coming back a few minutes later with an armful of clothes. She handed Sam a pair of fire truck red swim trunks, and Gabriel a Samuel Adams t-shirt and cargo shorts. "Here you go! Bedroom on the second right is the spare, and bathroom is on the left next to my room. You two are by the laundry room." She pointed, directing them down the hall.

Gabriel held the clothes under his arm. "Dibs on the room!"

Valerie laughed as he sprinted towards the door.

"Sorry about him. He's... New."

"It's alright. He reminds me of my fifth grade class." She smirked at him. "Now go get changed, and I'll show you around."


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> haha... I said it wasn't going to be long until the next chapter... Did I lie? (Yes)

Gasquet was a small town, population,967. Val brought them to the corner market, the only grocery store in town, only the size of a gas station food mart. With harsh fluorescent lights lining the aisles, Gabe immediately went for the candy.

Sam sighed, and fixed him with a glare.  
"You, do _not_ need all of that."

"Um, excuse you? I can spend my money however I please." Gabe huffed at him, arms full of various candy bars and hard candies.

"You're incorrigible."

"That's my middle name!"

Val rung up a dozen eggs, and a jar of peanut butter, smiling at the man, Greg, who was running the cash register.

When Gabriel saw they had a soft serve machine, he lit up.

"Ooh!" He put all the chocolate he had chosen back. "How much for three ice creams?"

"Four fifty." Greg smiled.

Gabe passed him a five, before insisting he buy all of them ice cream, Gabriel got himself chocolate, and got Sam vanilla, because, quote unquote, "You're boring Sambarine. I figured you'd be a Vanilla person."

It was sad, because it _was_ Sams favorite flavor.

Valerie politely declined, but after Gabriel insisted, she relented, asking for a swirl.

The two of them lagged behind Val as she walked them around, pointing out places of interest, like the old burnt and  desolate school house that loomed, stark white against the towering and flourishing ivy that dominated the front and blocked any entry, or the church with a single stained glass windows that appeared to feature Jesus, glowing as it was lit from the side, and talking to people on the street. She greeted an older woman, who invited them over for breakfast asking if, "These nice young men are single." To which she laughed and told the woman, Cathy, that they were a bit too young for her, and Gabriel stifled a snort. Cathy was easily millennia younger than him. But it was a sweet sentiment to know that he was still looking young and fit.

While they were standing there, Sam's ice cream started to drip, so he tilted his head and began to eat it sideways, the ice cream dotting the tip of his nose which he lazily wiped off.

"What are you _doing_?" Gabriel gaped at him, cradling his cone even more delicately.

"Eating." He shrugged. "This way it won't fall."

" _No_ you're... You're mutilating it!"

Sam huffed at the archangel. "Oh, get over yourself. It's just ice cream."

"Bah humbug. You're no fun."

"Did- did you just stick your tongue out at me?" He barked out a surprised laugh. "What is this, kindergarten?"

"Oh shut up and go back to your sacrilegious ice cream eating." Gabriel grumbled, pointedly ignoring Sam. By, turning away from him and looking at anything but the hunter.

Sam had a self satisfied smirk plastered onto his face as he went back to eating, meandering down the cracking asphalt road.

Val led them down to the firehouse, a relatively small building painted a neutral shade of tan with a russet shingled roof, and walked to the side of it, with a much traveled path of gravel and dirt leading into vibrant and green bushes. She started picking blackberries off the more dense bushes towards the outsides, and eating them. From inside her purse she pulled out three plastic and crinkled grocery bags, passing one to each of them.

"Fill these. I'm going to make blackberry pie. You can pay for your stay by picking real good ones."

"Yes ma'am!" Gabriel mock saluted. "We'll get right to that, ma'am."

She rolled her eyes good naturedly, and started picking.

"Sam." Gabe leaned just a bit too far into Sam's personal space. "How do you know which ones are good?"

The hunter rolled his eyes and walked up through the dirt driveway and into the bushes near the back, shaking the bag until it fully opened. "It's easy Gabe."

"Oh, well please enlighten me, your high and mightiness." Gabriel grumbled, glaring at the bushes as if they had personally offended him.

"If they're green, they're no good. If they're black and come off easy, they're perfect." Sam said, as he picked a few, eating one when he paused.

Well hell, that made perfect sense. Gabriel turned to the bushes by him and tugged at a blackberry until it came off the bush. He held it up and bit through it, wincing and pulling a face at the sourness. "Ugh- gross!"

"I said come off _easy_ Gabriel."

"Shut up Samster." He grumbled, going back to the bushes, silently mocking Sam's words, but thoroughly chastened. Gabriel was careful with the ones he picked, trying to tug super gentle. When he finally looked back at Sam, the mans bag was a quarter full.  
"Hey- how'd you do that so _quickly_?"

"Oh, they're pie blackberries." He grinned deviously. "They don't have to come off super easy."

Gabriel had a strong urge to throttle him. He'd probably need a step stool... Or a ladder, to reach Sam's neck. Goddamn heights. He grumbled under his breath about schematics and optimal heights as he tried to pick even more blackberries than Sam.

Speaking of which, the human kept looking and checking on Valerie. At least, he was in between popping berries into his mouth.

"I thought we were supposed to be _picking_ those, Sam." He chided, throwing a overripe one at his head.

Sam flinched and grabbed the back of his head, whipping around to glare at the archangel. "Hey! What was that for?"

Gabriel whistled nonchalantly. "What? I didn't do anything!"

"Idiot." He rolled his eyes and turned back around.

"What? Hey! You take that back!"

\-----

They finished eventually, fingers dyed purple from eating one too many blackberries and lips colored with juice. The sun had been beating down on all of them, Sam had taken off his shirt to try and combat the heat, and Gabriel did not mind the view one bit. Because, damn. Abs.

While he was (not) drooling over Sam's six pack,  Valerie suggested they go down to the river, and directed them there, saying she'd meet them with towels.

Sam and Gabe started along the path, the dirt red from iron, well trodden, and shaded by reaching oaks and towering redwoods. They stayed in the middle and avoided the poison oak that was sprinkled along the edge. Slowly the dirt faded into boulders that sloped down to a deep blue river that was snaking around a bend.

"Y'know, I don't get it." Sam mused aloud as he started picking his way down the rocks that led to the river, sandstone and slate seamlessly mixing together.

"Get what?" Gabe put his hands on a nearby rock to steady himself as he stepped down.

"Why you're helping. I mean," Sam paused to jump across to a better foothold. "A few years ago, you didn't do anything for anyone unless it directly benefited you. What changed?"

"Nothing. I am, still, a selfish bastard." He shrugged. "Nothing's changed, I just figured this is more productive than getting stabbed."

"Uh huh." Sam smirked, finally reaching the pebbly beach and holding a hand out for Gabriel. "Sure."

"Hey what does that mean?" He rejected Sam's hand. Why give the cocky bastard what he wanted?

Sam shrugged and threw his undershirt against the sandy part, and slipped off his dress shoes and socks, setting them neatly on top, socks balled up and stuffed in the toe of his shoe. He then ventured out to the rock that was jutting out of the water and peered in, seeing how deep it was.

Gabe awkwardly toed his shoes off, keeping the shirt on. He stuck a toe into the river and recoiled sharply. It was _cold_.

Sam laughed from the rock, watching his expression with a quiet amusement about him. "Don't be ridiculous Gabe, it's fine once you start warming up."

Gabriel flipped him the bird, cautiously wading up to his knees, watching as the current swirled around his legs, seeming to pull gently into the rushing water that churned white as it tumbled down the rocks from one of the river forks. He wasn't paying attention to Sam as the man snuck up behind him.

Well he finally _was_ as Sam scooped him up like a war bride and clambered up the rock, tossing him into the deep water gleefully.

It was fucking freezing. His vessel was about to become an ice cube as he plummeted down. Gabriel came up screeching, and sputtering river water.

"SAM WHAT THE FUCK!"

Sam was sitting on the rock, peals of laughter causing him to shake viciously. He wiped tears out of his eyes as he tried to regain his composure, losing it again when he saw Gabriel come up, most likely resembling a drowned cat.

"It's not funny!" He huffed indignantly.

"Y-yes it is!" Sam hiccuped, trying to breathe normally instead of the incoherent wheezing he was currently doing. "Y-your face!"

Gabriel narrowed his eyes, and (only cheating a little with grace) grabbed his arm, pulling him straight into the water too.

Sam came up, gasping for air, a curtain of brown hair plastered to his face. "Jesus Christ-"

"No." Gabe cut him off. "Archangel. But I'm flattered. I've heard that my half brother was the talk of the town for a while."

Sam chuckled, taking a hand and flipping his hair that was in his face over his head, letting it drape and stick limply to the back of his head, leaving a few strands free and plastered to his forehead and cheeks.

Gabriel absentmindedly tucked them up behind Sam's ear, before realizing just how close they were together and scooted back until he was sitting on a rock shelf.

Sam might have had a little more color in his cheeks before he dove back under the crystal clear water. Gabriel could see him as he swam to the bottom. When he came up again, he set a rock down with a resolute thunk next to Gabe.

"Holy shit, Sam." He laughed. "You get that from the bottom?"

"Y'know, if I was Dean, I could make so many jokes about that." Sam teased him, treading water with ease.

"Ah, yes, you also have this thing called 'tact'." He shot back.

Sam threw his head back, and chuckled.

Gabriel smiled from where he was perched, and cautiously slid into the water, it was still cold, but at least he was going numb from it. Soon he'd be totally fine. Just had to get warmed up. His smile turned devious as he got an idea. When Sam wasn't looking, he quickly splashed him, and shot off in the opposite direction, towards the other bank.

Sam took a second to process it, but adopted his own smirk, as he tore after him across the river. When he finally caught up to Gabe, the water was shallow enough where he could stand, the river worn rocks under his feet shifting in the sand. He scooped the archangel up and dunked him under the water.

When Gabriel was pulled up by Sam, he had dissolved into peals of laughter, carelessly swinging an arm around Sam's shoulder and neck. His other hand was splayed across his own chest as it heaved to try and get enough oxygen in.

Sam was grinning from ear to ear. He let his grip on Gabe's upper arm relax, and moved his hand to the blonde's hip.

Gabriel's laughter turned into surprised sputtering and coughing as he realized what was going on at that moment. "Uh, kiddo?"

"Yeah?" Sam replied, nothing but nonchalant.

"Your hand, it's er- it's kind of on my hip." He said awkwardly. "It's a little touchy feely."

"I know." He said, smirking a little.

"I- wait- what?" Gabriel stuttered, quickly turning red.

"Kind of need to do it."

"Need it for what?"

"Doing this." Sam reached down and brushed back his hair, leaning in, and kissing him softly.

Gabriel was shocked at first, doing nothing but letting it happen. And then, oh, then he _got with the program._ He slung his other arm around Sam, and used the buoyancy of the water to wrap his legs around his waist. He started kissing back as good as he got.

When Sam started slowing down was when Gabe remembered that humans needed oxygen, and pulled away.

"Well shit Sammy. Why didn't you just say so?" He asked cockily.

Sam just rolled his eyes and pulled Gabriel into another kiss to shut him up. "You're cuter when you're quiet."

The archangel laughed and pushed away from Sam, placing a hand on his chest. "Stop objectifying me, and I'll kiss you again."

"Deal." Sam grinned.

Gabriel leaned forward, as if to kiss him, and then shoved Sam backwards into the water.

"Oh you little-" He sputtered, lurching forward to try and catch him.

Gabriel squawked and dodged him, scooting away. Then he tripped over a particularly large river rock and careened  backwards.

Sam leaned over him with a smirk. "You're getting your just desserts. Ironic huh?"

"Ugh. Dramatic much?" He grumbled.

"Yep. But you love me." Sam grinned, pulling Gabriel up.

"Little soon for that Samster."

"Oh, but we'll get there."

"We just might." Gabe smiled at him.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Kudos and comments are always appreciated!
> 
> Feel free to pester me on Tumblr


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